


A MarySue: Grit your teeth and on with it!

by MalincheTC



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:27:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24864544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalincheTC/pseuds/MalincheTC
Summary: Summary: "I want… a Legolas – MarySue. Only conditions: a suffering Thranduil and a musical Boromir." (Amélie)And that‘s how poor dental assistant Lucy is struck by lightning and subsequently stuck in Middle Earth, under the guidelines of a MarySue. Of course, there‘s a Ring War going on, of course, Legolas is close-by …But let‘s be honest, when the Ring‘s already molten down, there‘s not a whole lot to write about anymore, is there?!
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Arwen Undómiel, Boromir (Son of Denethor II) & Original Female Character(s), Boromir (Son of Denethor II)/Éowyn, Haldir of Lothlórien & Original Female Character(s), Haldir of Lothlórien & Thranduil, Legolas Greenleaf & Original Female Character(s), Legolas Greenleaf/Original Female Character(s), Orophin (Tolkien) & Original Female Character(s), Rúmil of Lothlórien & Original Female Character(s), Thranduil (Tolkien) & Original Female Character(s), Éowyn & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	1. And it got worse ...

Or: Does your OFC come from Earth? Are they dropped into Middle Earth by mysterious forces?  
***  
Do you know this feeling? One is experiencing the darkest hours of their life and thinks it can‘t get any worse now. Ah yes, you know it. This means I don‘t have to explain in great detail what I felt that morning.

What morning, you might ask? Well, it was the morning I entered the practice to find my boss, the esteemed dentist Horace Willbur, lying dead at his desk. That alone would have been bad enough, but it was Monday and, as the nice policemen told me after I‘d finished throwing up in the bathroom, presumed time of death was on Friday afternoon. Horace had been lying around all weekend in this nice little office that was the basis of my life hood.  
It was warm, as I had switched off airconditioning when leaving on Friday and by now, Horace bore little resemblance to his usual form any more. To be honest, the body had started to decay and it stunk like the plague.

Yeah, the stench should have given me a pause. On the other hand, though, as a dental assistant, I was used to some of the worst smells that came out of our patients' mouths and I was a little slow in the morning. It always took a while until my brain was able to process environmental stimuli accordingly. Also, who would immediately suspect the death of their boss?

Heart attack, said the coroner, who bore an eerie resemblance to Rumplestiltskin. I didn‘t really know how he‘d come to this conclusion, but at least there was no knife sticking out of Horace's back or anything equally gory.

Anyhow, they sent me home telling me not to worry about some sort of crime and to take the day off. How?, I would have liked to shout at them, This is Long Island, rent is expensive and the jobs are sparse!

So I spent long hours staring at the walls of my tiny apartment and wondering what I would do now. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I stared at the figure suddenly robbed of her certain, pleasant future who looked back with my own murky brown eyes.  
„Hello, Lucy“, I greeted, smiling mirthlessly. Incidentally, I noticed my most attractive feature to be my teeth. Very even, very white – well, that could be expected of a dental assistant. The rest of me was nothing worth mentioning; I was 24 years old with average height, average weight, and average shoulder-length hair that had the same colour as my eyes. „Time to look for a new job, your money will only last for 2 more months.“ All grief for Horace aside, that was what I would do first thing tomorrow. It was too late for today, anyway. Outside it was already getting dark, but that didn‘t stop me from throwing on my new jogging shorts, pulling the grey top over my head and putting on my trusty sneakers that had seen better and tidier days to run from my sorrows.

Well, not running away from them per se (as some might have claimed), more like running to forget these problems for a little while. That was what happened when I was trotting through this outrageously expensive neighbourhood, panting loudly all the way.  
The inhabitants of those expensive mansions were certainly far better off, sitting in front of their custom-designed fireplaces, wearing their custom-designed jumpsuits, and enjoying their custom-designed A/Cs. I am not a jealous person, but on this day I wasn‘t in the greatest mood. Maybe it was due to the thunderstorm gathering over my head. One I had been hoping to miss before it started. Did I mention it was my lucky day? It started raining, no, pouring just as I reached the small pathway leading to a cute little wooden bridge crossing a small stream.

The storm was reaching its peak when I was about 50 ft away from the bridge. One particularly impressive flash of lightning lit up the otherwise pitch-black sky and my heart missed a beat when I saw the tiny person swinging their body over the railing.  
„No!“, I screamed, as it was obvious what this creature over there was planning on doing. Nobody would go for a win in this weather when the river swelling and the current downright dangerous.  
I could have saved my breath. Naturally, they promptly jumped from the railing and I pushed my legs to work even faster. One death was more than enough for the day! Two deaths would be unbearable and might lead others to believe you meant bad luck.  
I really had been ready to jump into the current to save that poor unfortunate soul, but when I finally reached the bridge and took a look at the masses of water barrelling towards the Atlantic Ocean with the speed of a racing car I found I no longer cared for my reputation all that much. I‘m no hero, just a dental assistant for god’s sake. We‘re saving teeth, not human lives.

Standing there, staring into the dark waters below I was starting to wonder if I had stepped on some important toes in a previous life. Maybe bad luck was ingrained in my genetic code or something. My parents, in any case, had chosen to leave me in front of a hospital and disappeared pretty quickly after. So quickly, in fact, that even the surveillance cameras had been able to show more than a dark blur. Oh yes, from the moment I‘d been born I really felt the love!  
I stood there for quite a while, overhead the raging storm and under me the foaming river and gallons of rain slowly soaking me through. Maybe I should jump and put myself out of my misery … I dismissed that thought very quickly. There would always be bad teeth, dentists too, and I would find another job somehow. Assuming I didn‘t die of pneumonia first.

Well, it wasn‘t pneumonia in the end. It happened faster, much faster, and was mainly due to the huge lightning blast hitting the bridge about 5 ft next to me. Then I only remember being thrown over the railing. That was it, was my last thought, you‘re dead.

***

I was falling.

Not for very long, I grant you, but long enough to worry about it. I‘d been sort of expecting to see this long tunnel with a light on the other side. Of course, it was also possible I‘d go to hell, and they did not care for such embellishments on the way down. In the details, the two might be quite different, after all. Anyway, as I was plummeting down, there was a slight rushing — might have been the river — and I wondered if I would catch up with the guy who had jumped before me. Before I‘d come to a satisfying conclusion, the fall came to an abrupt end.

The impact, which clearly did not come from a water surface, was so violent I remained to lie dazed. Eyelids screwed tightly shut, I tried delaying the inevitable initial contact with Lucifer’s secretary. It wasn‘t particularly warm down here, I noticed, even a little cool but dry, at least. Although my sub-surface was rocking gently and felt strangely squishy.  
And it smelt!

I don‘t want to say it smelt bad or anything, just strange. Very unusual. With my eyes still firmly shut, I started feeling around me.  
The softness seemed to come from some sort of mattress I had landed on. And the smell … hm, seemed to be made of leather or something similar, though there was something hard underneath. Very funny, THAT was not what I was hinting at.

I decided to finally open my eyes.

Sometimes, you make wrong decisions, but you don‘t know about it till it’s already too late.

Opening my eyes was one of those wrong decisions. I looked up and straight into the face of a man.

A very DEAD man.

He was lying under me, or I was lying on top of him; doesn‘t matter. There was a corpse and I was in close contact with it. The third body this day, so it might be understandable that I reacted as I did. It was simply too much!  
With a shrill shriek, I scrambled to the side, noticed incidentally I was in a small boat, went fully into hysterics, jumped up, and … well, we capsized. Headfirst, was thrown into the fairly cold water, followed closely by the corpse that pushed me underwater. I kicked and flailed, dislodged the heavy thing, broke the surface, and screamed again. The boat had drifted off by now, directly towards the waterfall …

Time to faint, I thought, still screaming when I realized the thing with the waterfall. I was well on the way of doing exactly that when a long blade came to the surface next to me.

Did you ever see one of the movies about the knights of the round table? Nearly always there’s a scene where Excalibur emerges from the depths of the water. You could imagine the scene just like that, minus the screaming woman, of course. Because that was me and the sword was in fact not Excalibur, but the dead man was attached to it. Eyes wide open and gasping for breath, his head broke the water surface. He seemed a little confused, not very strong and the sight of me did not seem to bring him any joy, if the pure terror in his remarkably beautiful grey eyes was anything to go by. The zombie disliked both me and the current and, after a short cry that sounded somehow pained, he slowly sank out of sight again.

My hesitation lasted only for a few seconds, then I took the chance of crossing the third death in the last 24 hours off of my list. Valiantly diving below the surface where funny little waves and bubbles marked his path I grasped his long hair and pulled ruthlessly until my ex-dead companion came up next to me.

There really was no time for worrying about his eyes that had rolled back into his head. Getting away from the nearing waterfall had become very urgent and a brief look around us told me that we would have to paddle back to one of the riverbanks as soon as possible. A long time ago I had attended a lesson by the lifeguard service. Only it was much easier pulling a friend of the same age back to the edge of a swimming pool than maneuvering a fairly large man in heavy clothing through the current of a river.  
I don‘t suppose I was handling him very gently, and he definitely got a few mouthfuls of water along our way to the left riverbank. It was a small miracle in itself that I even managed to steer us both in the right direction at all. My arms grew heavier and heavier, my legs too, but with the determination of a survivor, I swam for the nearest bank.  
You can‘t imagine just how relieved I felt when I finally felt the steady ground beneath my feet again. Instead of swimming I now waded through the water that only reached my hips by now.

I supported my alarmingly lifeless companion‘s back, so he floated on his back next to me and headed for a point about 100 ft away where the gentle slope seemed steep enough to manage. Furthermore, there was a huge bollard — a sign of life, of civilization! Hurrah, safe at last! The crowd of worried helpers was nowhere in sight, though. I had to pull my hanger-on onto the beach by myself. Not an easy task when the saved was making no move to help whatsoever. I tugged him over the rocky ground by his massive shoulders and didn‘t even feel bad when his head made contact with one of the big stones lying around. Finally, I buckled down with a heavy grunt.

Saved!

Still out of breath, I sat on the stones and absent-mindedly took in my surroundings. The lightning strike had to have caused some kind of weird natural-scientific phenomenon that had transported me from the small wooden bridge to another place. An unfamiliar place, clearly.  
The river in front of me was very broad, nearly a lake, and disappeared about 500 ft to the right in a misty cloud. In its middle, there sat an enormous rock.

The rush of the water thankfully was no longer as loud as it had been before and suggested that the waterfall behind the mist was a pretty big one. The boat I had landed on was nowhere in sight. It probably lay somewhere down there, in splinters.

What I could see of the shore was not exactly reassuring for a city person, no matter how small the town. Here it was pure nature, really. Only Trees, bushes, and the riverbank I was sitting on. Besides, the air was strangely clean which could only be the result of lacking smog. I‘d landed in the wildness!

Suspiciously, I turned around and examined the slope at my back. In the wildness, there were wild animals. Considering my luck so far,there would be a wild bear stumbling over our temporary camp soon.

Much to my relief, everything stayed silent and with a sigh, I turned to face the problem lying next to me on the ground. Even while swimming he‘d appeared huge, but here, stretched out on land, he seemed even bigger and substantially unfriendlier, to be completely honest. Also, he appeared to have a screw loose, considering his clothing and the sword he still held onto with his right hand.

I moved a little to the other side. A lunatic with an obsession with knights! And I was stranded here, with him. I should probably be glad he was still unconscious. I knew guys like him — my last boyfriend, good ole Kevin, suffered from the same mental disorder. During the six months of our relationship, he‘d dragged me to no less than 2 medieval festivals and one „Lord of the Rings“-con. There I had seen tons of guys wearing such clothing and waving around with their plastic swords.

My special friend though, I realised with slight panic, clutched a real sword in his hands and his costume was by far the most elaborate I‘d ever seen. His long leather vest alone, decorated with rivets and the boots must have cost a fortune! Kevin would have paled with envy!

I felt myself paling out of fear. This man really was authentic, down to the cuts on his arms and face.

It might be understandable that I suddenly felt dizzy. He really had cuts and holes in his clothing. The whole thing was becoming creepier by the second. Those freaks might have met out there to practice their sword fights and this one had been collateral damage.

I scanned the area once more. It was entirely possible that instead of a bear there would be a mob of madmen turning up and being angry about me rescuing the supposedly dead victim. I seemed to be in luck, apparently they weren‘t here anymore. Had hopped into their Range Rovers and driven back to their families who had no idea that the knight– freaks had just massacred one of their buddies.

I chewed on my lower lip anxiously. What the hell was I supposed to do now? He didn‘t seem particularly stable and there was no sign of an emergency rescue helicopter. What if he died here on my watch and in the end, the park rangers thought I had stabbed him? Besides, it would give me something to do.

I crawled closer and started removing my knight‘s expensive armour. Undressing handsome men supposedly is a fairly enjoyable activity. It probably would have been, had he been livelier and his clothing not soaked through. Like this, it was difficult. At least I had a little bit of experience with this ancient type of clothing, courtesy of my time with Kevin, so the various swaths and buckles were no great issue. Nonetheless, it was no fun, peeling him, unresponsive like a sack of flour, out of leather clothing. From time to time, he moaned. I‘ll admit I‘m lacking the practised efficiency of a nurse, so a few times, I pulled at his arms quite roughly.

I should have let him be, honestly!

He might have been a handsome bugger, with muscles over muscles, but below his left shoulder, there was a really ugly hole in his upper body. That one had definitely not been caused by a sword, looked more like a lance of something of the kind. I didn‘t really care, it was there and it was causing problems.

Did I mention I‘m usually wearing a waist bag when going for a run? Always prepared, words to live by. In there I found a few plasters, a small bottle of disinfectant, a roll of adhesive tape for sprained joints, some salve for minor scrapes, a few tissues in case of sudden digestive problems, and a comb for the unexpected sighting of my dream man.

I wouldn‘t need the comb for now, but the plasters were more like it. One had to be optimistic now and try treating a stab wound with some plasters and salve. Who knew, it might have unprecedented wondrous effects? At least he had survived so far. A plaster was practically hight-tech medicine. Nonetheless, there seemed to be something seriously wrong with my knight; his condition seemed too serious for just one stab wound that wasn‘t even bleeding anymore.  
I hesitated for a moment, then moved behind him and, after much struggling, managed to raise him up by the shoulder into an upright position.

„Jesus Christ!“, I groaned when I saw the equally disgusting stab wound in his back. Apart from the light dizzyness came the realisation that I wouldn‘t come very far with just a plaster.

As long as a hand! The wound was as long as a hand and looked pretty nasty, its margins gaping wide. This guy would die faster than I would like.

„Think, Lucy, think!“,I murmured and swallowed down the bile creeping up my throat. „Patch him back together.“

This would indeed have been a good idea, had I had needle and thread. With slight desperation, I reviewed my options and came to the conclusion that plasters would have to do. I‘d have to press the margins of the wound together and tape them to each other with my plasters.

It took a while until I could actually bring myself to take the gaping flesh between thumb and pointer finger and to start pulling. Almost immediately, I flinched back. My fingertips tingled – no idea what the guy had on him, but it felt like touching an electric wire. I frowned. Did this have to do with me being struck by lightning? Whatever it was, it didn‘t stop when I started pulling at the edges of the wound with renewed determination and then placed the plasters with my free hand after having removed the protective foil with my teeth. It might not have been particularly sterile, but my knight was in no position to complain about that, anyway!

After that, my energy was spent. My bare-chested knight was laying in the sun on the riverbank and was slowly drying. I was sitting next to him, staring at the water surface and doing the same.

What the hell was I even doing here?

Where was I?

And how did I actually get here?

I couldn't find an answer to any of these questions. On the other hand, those were the questions that have been preoccupying mankind since the Stone Age, so it was highly unlikely that I of all people would answer them now.

When it started getting dark around me my clothes were mostly dry, except for my shoes which I had placed on a flat rock, and there had been no further progress. The rescue helicopter was still nowhere in sight. The only sounds came from the forest and I didn‘t particularly care for those. Nature was quite a loud affair, I noted, and it didn‘t help that my knight moaned occasionally. It was a pained, tormented sound from the depths of his throat that made me shiver.

„Stop it!“, I hissed at some point. „This is your own fault, mister! Serves you right for toying around with sharp blades. What can I say? A few hours ago, I was standing on a bridge and then struck by lightning – And I'm not crying about it, am I?“

I did, sometime later. Lonely and abandoned, in the middle of nowhere, with only a thin shirt and some shorts to provide warmth, with a half-dead person lying next to me and jobless, on top of it all. In this situation, I was definitely allowed to.

For a while, at least. Before it could get too dark, I picked myself up to go have a look at the surrounding area. After all, there was a chance that, somewhere behind the nearest bushes, there was a parking lot where the knight's car was waiting.

No, it did not.

Surprised?

No, I didn‘t think so. Instead, I found something else. A boat, a canoe, or whatever. So the hobby knights had also fought naval battles. Very pretty, the boat was – made out of wood with intricated carvings and probably very, very expensive. Maybe it even belonged to my knight. And, if this assumption proved to be correct, he was also the owner of the pile of luggage that was hidden underneath a woolen cover which I decide to inspect further.

Great, I was in Sweden, if the crispbread wrapped in various sorts of leaves was any indication. So I wouldn‘t starve until tomorrow morning. Or freeze, because there was a blanket which might have been a little thin but dry, at least. And some sort of leathern drinker for medieval heroes, filled with clean water.

I gathered up the crispbread and blanket, then thoughtfully considered the bow and quiver surrounded with a few arrows lying at the bottom of the boat. Maybe I could use the quiver to kill a senile, half-dead rabbit to spice up my meager crispbread meals. Or I could impale some fish on one of my new arrows. I didn‘t pin my hopes on fried fish – there was no lighter and rubbing two sticks together hoping they would just give up and burst in flames seemed like a futile endeavor.

With the luggage in tow, I felt my way back across the stony riverbank, where the half-naked knight still slept the sleep of the convalescent. His chest rose and fell with his deep and even breaths, so he wasn‘t dead yet.

I really had earned that blanket, but his skin was icy, and seeing a fellow like him trembling with cold was just a pitiful sight. Overcome by my own generosity, I covered him with the woolen cloth and pushed his crumpled, now completely dry, shirt under his head. This way, I had the opportunity of studying him more closely.

He was very handsome, actually. His face was narrow and even, albeit polluted with by a three-day stubble that was perhaps one of the requirements for knighthood. Dark blond hair, reaching down to the shoulders, framed his sharp features, which probably held a healthy tan unless blood loss and nearly drowning caused a lack of blood circulation. And his eyes were grey, I remembered.

In everyday life, he might be an architect, or a banker, or something else that brought a lot of money every month. Enough, at least, to cultivate this strange hobby and be stabbed by like-minded people.

And he had a beautiful sword. I would know, thanks to Kevin. The good man had turned half of my apartment into an armoury. Only none of his stabby tools could compete with the piece of weaponry lying next to my knight here. If his buddies had similar weapons, it was no surprise he was in such a state. I just couldn‘t resist. Cautiously I reached over him and fished for the sword. It laid comfortably in my hand, even though it wasn‘t custom-made for me. Critically, I swung it back and forth; The sword was heavy and I had to take it in both hands to really hold it. But it was sharp and pointed, so shortly thereafter, I stood up to my thighs in crystal clear water, held the sword with the tip pointing down, and waited for a pack of fishburgers to swim by. Honestly, it‘s not like I had anything else to do ...

Time passed and only a midget that would not even have been suitable for an appetizer swam by my feet. I was trying to drive it away by stirring the water with the sword when there was a noise behind me. I froze n my tracks. It had sounded like a disgruntled bear, or an angry aurochs, or a monster. I wouldn‘t know, I hadn‘t met any of those before.

The noise repeated itself and I suddenly remembered the knight lying at the beach, completely defenseless. With the courage of the hysteric, I grabbed the sword a little tighter and whirled around to show the unknown assailant you didn‘t just grunt about here on my watch.

„Wah!“, I squeaked with surprise before promptly dropping the sword.

My knight wasn‘t lying down any longer, but sitting upright and looking at me with great irritation.

„Don‘t move!“, I warned him next while fingering in the water to find the sword again. „I‘m armed.“

He lifted one eyebrow and watched me pulling his sword from the floods to swing it in his direction.

„Ha, with a sword!“, I triumphed.

„That is my sword.“, he said after a short pause with a hoarse voice and cocked his head.

„So what?“, I hissed nervously.

„Steady, my lady, or you will hurt yourself“, he sighed after another break.

Jesus Christ, what a complete weirdo. One with a nice voice, but clearly in need of some serious therapy. My Lady, indeed! That one didn‘ even find back to reality when having his guts sliced open.

He felt around his shoulder, then touched his back with the other hand and pulled a strange face. Then, he started to rise, though he was clearly in pain. „I would not do that if I were you“, I advised, channeling my inner Florence Nightingale. „These were not caused by a fairy with a toothpick, you know?“

„It was Uruk‘hai“, he corrected, shaking his head and casting a suspicious glance around us. „Are you alone? Where is Aragorn?“

Having spent half a year with Kevin, certain words triggered warning bells that simply were impossible to ignore. Besides, I had seen the movies, read the books a few years ago with little interest but with a sense of duty and spent whole evenings with Kevin and his stupid friends who had taken every detail of the movies apart. Yeah, my knight was a fan of the Lord of the Rings, one of the truly dedicated ones who re-enacted the scenes.

„Aragorn is gone“, I tried jogging his memory. „And the whole gang is, too. They overdid it a little, buddy, and just about left you for dead here.“

„I was dead.“, he said mostly to himself. „And I remember being on the way to my forefathers. Then I was pulled back and I saw your face.“

I nodded nicely. If he went on like this, he would remember where he had parked his car by tomorrow morning. And where he‘d left the keys...

He stalked up and down the shore. For an almost dead man, he‘d recovered very quickly. Maybe his wound hadn‘t been as bad as I had assumed initially. I was fine with both, as it spared me having to witness another death.  
Suddenly he came to a halt in front of me and stared at me with a searching look. „Were you sent here by the Lady of the Golden Wood?“

„Huh?“, I asked, not very intelligently.

„Tell me your name“, he demanded, still quite deep in his role.

„Lucy“, I stuttered, by now feeling truly disturbed.

„Lucy“, he repeated. „That is a very unusual name for an Elleth.“

Ah yes, an Elleth. My Boromir-double – nothing else would have made sense, at this point – clearly had to be very short-sighted in real life. His stint with the river had probably cost him his contact lenses. I might pass for a lot of things, most likely for an oversized Hobbit, but definitely not for an Elleth. On the other hand …

I swear, I didn‘t mean to do it. Honestly! But some sort of compulsion took over and I lifted my left hand up to my ears. Boromir flinched when I gave a loud wail as soon as my hand had touched the pointy ends of my previously round ears. Next, I stared at the water surface at my feet and this time, I didn‘t pay attention to the fish at the bottom, but to my reflection.

Waves or not, it was enough to give me the rest. It was me, yet it wasn‘t. Staring back at me was an Elleth with wide-open eyes of violet-blue, long, dark lashes, and truly gorgeous facial features. My dark hair held a shine and was twisted into delicate braids that disappeared behind my pointy ears.

Suddenly, my throat went dry. I had heard of this before! I had read of this before. One of Kevin‘s acquaintances – the tart with whom he had cheated on me – had been crazy about this and constantly talked about it.

I was a goddamn Mary-Sue, trapped in Middle Earth!

***  
TBC.


	2. Chapter 2: Well, it didn‘t get any better ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you can't imagine just how thrilled I am about seeing my first ever subscribers & kudos! Thank you very much and I hope you don't mind me taking my time with properly translating the german draft lying around on my desk - university takes up a lot of time and I really don't want to half-ass this.   
> Without further ado: enjoy!

Or: Does Boromir fall in love with you OFC? Is their time together affectionate and touching? Do they cry?

~+~  
‚You did it again!‘ There‘s no mistaking the clear accusation of the speaker‘s voice.  
‚I know, but it was just a mistake. There‘s so many at once that I simply missed it.‘  
‚The harmony is disturbed. You know He hates disturbances.‘  
‚Couldn‘t He just bring her back?‘  
‚Mistakes like this one can not be reversed.‘

***

„Are you okay?“

I wanted to raise my head automatically, but a large hand that came to rest on the back of my nack pushed my skull back between my bended knees. „Take your time, my lady, you seem to be quite shaken, still.“

I mumbled something incomprehensible and continued staring at the stones illuminated by the light of the fire Boromir had started some time ago. I had no idea how he‘d managed that. Witchcraft, probably. I giggled hysterically.

„Lucy?“ The son of the crazy Stewart, who was perhaps more normal than me at the moment, sounded seriously concerned. „I did not mean to scare you like this.“

„You didn‘t.“ Now, I raised my head and looked at him through glassy eyes. „No, you didn‘t. I‘m not scared. Not me. I‘m never scared.“

You could tell he did not believe a single word I just said. Shaking his head, he took the blanket and  
put it around my shoulders, then awkwardly patted my head and settled down on the other side of the fire. Boromir was no spring chicken either. I don‘t even think dying and being resurrected again in the last 24 hours was the worst of it. No, my little stunt after realizing what had happened to me had been worse.

From what I gathered from my own memory and Boromir‘s politely reserved remarks, he had saved my life twice. First, he had been by my side fast enough to push aside the sword on which I would inevitably have been impaled when collapsing, and secondly the hero of Gondor had kept me from falling headfirst into the river and drowning. We were definitely even, now.

„Have you been robbed?“, he ended our lapse in conversation.

„Robbed?“,I echoed dumbly.

„I just thought ...“, he murmured with a glance to my exposed legs sticking out under the blanket.

What does a MarySue say in such a situation? The truth? I just couldn‘t imagine that this seasoned warrior would believe my story about another world, portals, and Tolkien. He already thought me weird, but after such a speech he might just truss me up and throw me back into the water. How was it called again? Antonin, or something similar. Besides, the like had a different name, anyway. Better to avoid that slippery slope altogether.

„I don‘t know.“ It wasn‘t even a lie. After all, I was no scientist. I didn‘t even know how electricity travelled from power poles to the wall sockets, let alone how lightning could transport harmless joggers to fantastical lands. „I only remember being struck by lightning and waking up on the boat, after.“

„Ah.“ He even believed me. Great, apparently everything was possible if you had pointy ears. „Where are you from? Lothlórien?“

Welcome to the minefield, I thought. I really couldn‘t say Lothlórien, because Boromir had been there before and might decide to go back there together. „No.“ The friendly ex-dead man stayed silent, but his gaze was penetrating. Boromir was waiting for an answer.

„North.“, I declared with a grand gesture to the right.

He frowned. „That‘s west.“

„Really?“ Maybe I should have trusted him with the whole ‚I died and was transported to Middle Earth to steal the fellowship‘s cool scenes‘-story? „I‘m confused.“

„I never would have guessed.“, he murmured drily and threw another stick into the fire. „How come you speak our language so well?“

I was stunned. I did? As far as I knew, we were speaking English. Did we not? Had to be MarySue magic tackling this linguistic obstacle, then. I was wondering if I had gained any other special abilities? Sword fighting wasn‘t included, apparently, as I hadn‘t even been able to catch a single fish. „Good teachers.“

That was good enough for him, how nice. Maybe it was due to how exhausted he suddenly seemed. The day had not been easy for the poor man either. First, he‘d nearly barbecued one Hobbit, then been massacred himself while defending the other two, made a trip by boat, sunk and was saved by a crazy Elleth, saved the crazy Elleth … that‘s what I‘d call stress.

„We should follow Aragorn“, he sighed and blinked owlishly.

„Tomorrow.“, I consoled him. „Just sleep a little, buddy.“

„My lady ...“

He meant me; there was no one else present. „Yeah?“

„About this informal way of speaking.“ Boromir cleared his throat. „Your teachers must have made a mistake there.“

„We nearly drowned together, that definitely counts as bonding. Just call me Lucy.“ I just could not bring myself to address him by his honorific. That would mean accepting I was stuck here, and I still had one tiny little shred of hope I would wake up in a hospital tomorrow and find myself in the papers as the newest victim of some tragic accident.

For a short moment, I contemplated taking turns keeping watch. Weren‘t there Orcs running around here? But then I remembered that those had all been slaughtered or were already on there way to – where did they go again? - to deliver the Hobbits. Besides, Boromir, the only capable guard of our team, was out like a light and now sitting on the opposite side of the fire like some Peruvian mummy.

***

Boromir was sitting on the edge of his canoe and shaking his head at me. „This really is not appropriate, Lucy.“

I kept silent about the fact that this could be called extraordinarily covered, back in my world or time or whatever. Boromir, honorable gentleman ballads would be sung about, had sacrificed his tunic so I would be dressed at least somewhat modestly. Not that his outfit had suffered from it; the man was still wearing a nicely embroidered shirt with sleeves reaching up to his elbows underneath a generously cut leather vest.

I wore his dark red tunic was made out of light wool as a knee-length dress. A leather strap from the depths of his luggage was replacing a proper girdle and the blanket, which in reality was no blanket at all, but a lothlórian Cape hung around my shoulders. Underneath the dress, my brand-new pair of shapely elven legs stood out. Some aspects of this accident, like the total lack of cellulite, were fantastic.

„If you slip on your strange sort of footwear, we will be ready to leave.“

I had to bite my tongue to keep from protesting again. Personally, I would have preferred to stay for a while. I was still hoping for another thunderstorm and solemnly swore I would climb the highest tree in our vicinity – with a bit of luck, lightning would have struck and transported me straight back. Boromir, however, had said that there would probably be no storms over the next few days.

With clear desperation, he had offered to paddle me to Lothlórien, instead. I had declined his offer, politely but firmly.

Lothlórien!

Elves, and loads of them! It probably would have taken them less than five minutes to expose me and throw me off the next tree. They practically had to think of me as Sauron‘s handiwork. No, if I couldn‘t wait for another storm, then I‘d march across the Prairie with Boromir to find his former companions.

„I can take our bags“, I offered and speculated of walking extra slowly for it.

„Thank you for the generous offer.“, smiled the gondorian Mr. Sunshine with the heart of gold who apparently had overcome his weakness for small, ring-shaped jewelry. Valiantly shouldering the roll of cloth containing our supplies he marched off.

I had no other option but to trot after him. I didn‘t like his carelessness in putting a strain on his recently healed wounds. If he overtaxed himself and dropped dead, I would be on my own again. One day of this nightmare and I‘d already grown used to his presence. Well, that and, simply put: I was also screwed if he decided to nake off and leave me to fend for my own. Of course, I was worried for his wellbeing.

He seemed to be made of sterner stuff, though. This morning, I had snuck a glance between the bushes at the river, where my bare-chested hero splashed around in the water and observed that his wounds seemed no longer worth worrying about. Well, they were crusted over, at least. Seemed to be a good sing, I‘d decided.

In any case, he marched up the rising terrain without any sign of exertion until we arrived at a fairly large clearing. There, he stopped suddenly and looked around with a gloomy expression.

Cautiously. I did the same and registered with horror there were a lot of charred, blackened bones scattered around us. „This is disgusting!“

„Uruk‘hai“, Boromir murmured, his head lowered and shoulders strained. „This is where I died.“

„Not quite“, I reminded him gently.

The pile of charred Uruk‘hai was already horrible, but seeing a man like Boromir sinking to his knees and bursting into tears was even worse. Feeling terribly awkward standing there, right next to him, I began to fiddle with one of my magical braids, which was just as perfect as it had been when I‘d gone to sleep the day before. These things really held their own. „Boromir ...“

„I was supposed to protect the Hobbits“, he whispered dejectedly. „Instead, I chased after the Ring and scared Frodo away. The Hobbits were defenseless and it‘s my fault alone the Uruk‘hai were able to take them.“

True, but I couldn‘t tell him that. Just imagine: this gigantic, muscular man, who bore an eerie resemblance to the actor from the movies, was wallowing in self-pity and brawling. I did feel sorry for him, honestly, but I had imagined my battle seasoned protector in the wildness to be a little more resilient than that. On the other hand, I‘d grown used to such outbursts from professional experience. Even the coolest world conquerors had their weak moments when faced with a dentist‘s drill. There‘s only one solution: maternal love and care. I‘m quite good at it.

Therefore, I got down on my knees next to him and took one of his giant paws in my tiny ones. „Everything is predetermined“, I explained and hoped desperately I was wrong. That would give my presence here something very foreboding. „And you have resisted the Ring, in the end.“

Wrong announcement. His head lifted like in slow motion and he stared at me distrustfully. „What do you know about all of this?“

„Only rumors circulating amongst my people.“ Or the content of three movies, but that would have overwhelmed him. „The Lord of Imladris sent out a group of nine people to destroy the One Ring. After all that you‘ve told me, the fellowship came here and broke.“

He nodded silently. The suspicion had thankfully disappeared from his gaze. It definitely would have returned though, had I mentioned more details. Come to think of it, I still wasn‘t sure if this was the film version or followed the books. „The temptation of the Ring is great, but you‘ve reacted well enough, I think.“

Hm, the phrasing seemed to throw him a little. I hadn‘t gotten used to their stilted manner of speech yet. He would have to live with it. In any case, he rose to his feet again, pulling me up with him, and started scurrying around the clearing, much to my confusion.

„We have to get you a weapon, Lucy.“, he explained finally, holding up an ugly black bow. „Do you have experience with archery?“

Did I? I furrowed my brow. „I‘m not sure, actually.“

What seemed like only seconds later, I was standing at the edge of the clearing, holding the bow and contemplating if the tree on the opposite side would mind me shooting an arrow into its bark. On the other hand, chances were I would hit one of the specimen next to it, or my own foot. I took the arrow Boromir handed me. And MarySue magic struck again!

The immortal with the dream figure, lilac eyes, and silky black hair who‘d been dropped on Boromir‘s oaken bier by lightning the day before clearly was a fiend at archery. Spiritually, I was standing next to my body while my alter ego casually notched the arrow, strung the bow, and perforated the tree. I‘ll confess to being flattered when my companion clapped my shoulder in apparent delight.

The elation distracted me from our grueling trek through the woods for a while, at least.

***

Compared to the march of the next day, the walk through the forest was a walk in the park. After a quiet night under the last trees at the edge of the woods, Boromir the indestructible suggested continuing to Rohan. Westwards, with a southern twist. I had no objections to that, though either the movies had left out a few decisive scenes or we were in the book version which contained some seriously steeps and therefore difficult slopes peppered with rocks.  
„I thought Rohan was made of meadows“, I grouched at about noon and bit my still clean white teeth into some elvish waybread. Colourless, tasteless, and enormously saturating – Elves were the inventors of the emergency provisions.

„It won‘t be long“, my companion thought out loud, heroically gazing at something in the distance. „Then, it will also be easier reading the tracks. We‘re lucky the dwarf is the easiest to recognize.“

„Yeah, lucky“, I echoed without much conviction. I had no clue which tracks Boromir was following. I for one couldn‘t make out anything other than rocks and dirt.

Additionally, my MarySue magic seemed to be dormant. I‘d always thought the firstborn were supposed to be able to run until the edge of the world without breaking a sweat. As if! Either I was just part-time elven or Tolkien had lied and Legolas was simply an exception because he‘d been training. Without my jogging, I would have keeled over after an hour. My shoes were, contrary to the manufacturer‘s specifications, not quite suitable for this terrain.

We plodded on until the sun went down, then, to my great satisfaction, Boromir was the first to run out of strength. The good man looked a little pale. The malicious glee left me at the prospect of him joining his forefathers for good.

„You okay?“, he asked, breathing hard.

I wouldn‘t damage his pride any further. „I could use some rest.“

We sank to the ground right where we were standing and it took a while until our spirits revived. A campfire would have been spotted from miles away, so we didn‘t bother collecting wood.

„We won‘t be able to catch up with them.“, Boromir prophecised gloomily while toying around with two pebbles. The resulting clicking noise seemed to soothe him, but it only served to annoy me further. „Maybe we should head directly for Isengard, as this will be the Uruks‘ destination.“

„Saruman?“, I inquired carefully.

„It has to be him. The Uruk‘hai did not come from Mordor and they wore the sigil of the White Wizard. I wish I knew which choice was best. My heart longs for Mina‘s Thirith which will soon face all kinds of attacks from the east, but it also tells me not to leave my companions in this time of need.“

I thought it best not to answer. Boromir lived, so Canon was dead, anyway. Who knew what else had been changed or how many MarySues roamed the lands, causing chaos and confusion. I might even meet a colleague who‘d singlehandedly saved the Hobbits from the clutches of the Orcs and then accompanied Aragorn and Legolas to Isengard where she‘d convinced Saruman of joining the side of Light once again. Or evil had long since triumphed and we would get into serious trouble if we went any further eastwards.

„Let‘s just follow them for one more day“, my friend, the wise warrior, decided after a long pause. „If we haven‘t found them by then, we‘ll go to Edoras to find shelter. It may be a detour, but in times like these, it is crucial to rely on our longstanding friendships. King Théoden wouldn‘t betray us. He is a friend of Gondor, even if it has been a long time since my father last visited. He will loan us horses and provisions for our way there.“

„That really would be something.“

„Lucy, sometimes your manner of speech really is strange.“

„Hey, I‘m an Elleth who was struck by lightning. What did you expect?“

To my delight, he started laughing. Boromir had a really nice laugh, one that warmed your heart. When he wasn‘t trying to steal the One Ring, he clearly was a friendly, helpful gentleman who didn‘t look bad, either ...

The sudden panic hit me quite unexpectedly.

„You go to sleep, I‘ll take the first watch!“, I snapped at the surprised Boromir, snatched up my ruddy Orc-bow and began climbing the next highest rock. There, I curled up into a ball, with my back facing the campsite, and pretended to be watching the inhospitable landscape.

My hands were shaking, my knees too, and my heart was thumping like mad. Until now, I had forgotten about the mandatory love story a MarySue like me had to absolve. What if poor Boromir would be my victim? This whole misfortune really was none of his fault and I liked him far too much to let him suffer for it.

Unfortunately, the odds seemed to be in favour of this scenario. I had saved him, we were recking through the Prairie together and my elven beauty might make even the most stoic of men swoon. And I was a master of archery, too. If it came down to it, the man practically had no choice.

It was a dilemma. Over the next few days, this thought kept popping up again and again. I caught myself mustering Boromir suspiciously for the first signs he would one day trail after me like a lovesick puppy. I hadn‘t found any yet, and besides, we were busy following a trail leading westwards with the aforementioned southern twist. According to Boromir‘s expertise, our route was used quite frequently. Humans, Uruk‘hai, dwarfs, horses. The latter should, of course, come as no big surprise in a country like this.

At another time, in another body, I would probably have enjoyed our journey. Rohan was a beautiful country with seemingly endless pastures, juicy and green. Sometimes, the wind blowing over the plains seemed to create waves reminiscent of the sea. Franky, the wind was blowing all the time. But Rohan also was a very loosely populated country - there was not a soul to be seen. Only a few hares who met their end at Boromir‘s hand, whose experience with bow and arrows couldn‘t be denied.

He also had to skin and disembowel the poor critters, as I declined on grounds of womanly sensitivity. With eating, I helped once more– it was a nice change from crispbread.  
Boromir was a very pleasant tour guide. He didn‘t expect constant conversation and when we spoke, it often was by a campfire about the hares or plans for the next day. He also was very knowledgeable about our surroundings, and I an avid listener. It didn‘t stop me from watching him suspiciously once he got a little too friendly.

During the days when I was walking behind him, I had started plotting to save the man from his possible misfortune of falling in love with a fake Elleth. On an unrelated note, I still hadn‘t given up my hope of returning home the same way I‘d landed here. Every little cloud in the sky captured my attention.

„It‘s only a cloud“, said Boromir after a while, shaking his head. „It‘s too small for a thunderstorm.“

„Am I that transparent to you?“, I mumbled sheepishly, staring at the ground near my feet. My sneakers wouldn‘t hold for much longer. Brand quality, my ass!

„Only when it comes to storms“, he consoled me. Then, to my horror, he put his hands on my shoulders and waited until I met his gaze. „I promise, Lucy, I will take you back home once this is all over.“

I confess that my eyes immediately welled up. He wouldn‘t be able to keep his promise, but it was touching, nonetheless. „Thank you, Boromir.“

And then he had the audacity to wink at me before turning around again and heading for the charred pile of Orc-carcasses disfiguring the landscape. I already knew what that meant and I also knew there was no way I would ever set foot in the dark and gloomy forest lying behind the pyre.

Luckily, Gondor‘s hero didn‘t feel like taking a walk in the woods, either, and was prowling around the pile of Orc-barbecue like some sort of deer-hound on the scent, instead. I decided to channel my inner Elf and started doing the same. It wasn‘t all that difficult either, as I remembered this scene in particular quite vividly. I‘d never liked the woods and these ones were even creepier than the movies had suggested.

„Lots of riders.“, I announced grandly while staring at some flattened grass that could as well have been crushed beneath the tires of an Army truck. I for one wouldn‘t have been able to tell the difference.

„And the tracks in between are leading towards the forest.“ Boromir was bent forwards and now turned his head to look at me. „We could follow them.“

„No wise decision“, I declared out of pure self-interest. I wouldn‘t go in there for all the tea in China. The actual main characters had left the forest by now, anyway, and I had absolutely no desire to make the acquaintance of a real Ent whatsoever. I‘d been spared of meeting the supernatural creatures of Middle Earth so far, and I wasn‘t looking to change this any time soon. „This forest is old, very old. Full of memories and anger.“

A stolen line, but it seemed to work. Boromir didn‘t seem too eager to march through Fangorn either. He threw me a lopsided grin and clapped my shoulder. „ Let‘s go to Edoras, Lucy.“

***  
‚Going to Edoras‘ meant a few days‘ walk through the Prairie. I have to confess I‘d underestimated the way Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and Gandalf, the by now White, had travelled before Gandalf gave his performance as a rickety old man on the steps of Meduseld. In my and Boromir‘s defense; they‘d had horses.

Edoras was situated on a single lone hill in the middle of a valley basin through which the wind whistled constantly. This was nothing new, but what I had not been prepared for was the sheer irreality of the place.

Elven eyes are sharp, like binoculars, even if they were substantially better looking – especially lilac ones like mine. Even from half a day‘s march away I could make it out clearly, though it was very small still. So, during our approach, I had the chance to get used to the strange atmosphere lying over the city. At first, I thought it might have had to do with the fact that this was the first settlement of this world. That might have been true in the beginning, but bit by bit I realized there was another reason for my irritation.

„It seems abandoned.“, I announced when we were only a few hours away.

„They will be in their houses“, my companion, who was only now able to make out the rooftops in the distance, disagreed. „These are dangerous times and the fence is their only protection.“

„If you say so.“

A few hours later, we were standing in front of the locked gate of the impressively high stake wall and waited to be let in.

Boromir had shouted and finally hammered against the gate like a berserker. No one had even looked over the wall to chase away the troublemakers.

I gave Denthor‘s heir a long look.

„It‘s abandoned.“, he admitted grudgingly to the bitter taste of defeat. „You were right.“

„Helm‘s Deep?“, I suggested, feeling smug. So superior!

„That will be it.“, ha conceded and sighed. „We will have to keep marching. Iknow its location from a few descriptions in my father‘s archives.“

„Excuse me?“ The hint of hysteria creeping was due to a lack of sleep, aching feet in ruined sports shoes, and the urgent desire for a good night‘s sleep in a proper bed. It didn't have to be a water bed exactly, but everything was an upgrade to the hard ground we‘d spent our nights sleeping on.

Boromir pointed the gate with palpable annoyance. „It‘s locked.“

„I don‘t see a lock, though, so it must be something on the inside. They will at least have left a guard.“  
„N, thy didn‘t. Don‘t ask me how, but Edoras is abandoned and the gate locked from the inside. There‘s no way to get in.“  
„Nonsense“, I hissed and batted away Boromir‘s hand trying to pat my arm placatingly. „We will see about that.“

I planted myself in front of the palisade and desperately racked my brain for a way to invade a royal residence. Climbing the fence I ruled out whit a glance at the smooth tree trunks the about 6 ft high wall was made of. The Rohirrim obviously weren‘t stupid and had removed the bark which would at least have offered some support.

„Although, maybe ...“

I turned around. Boromir was standing a few feet behind me and held up a long silvery rope. Giving me a wink, he tied a knot around one of his arrows, notched the bow, and shot the arrow into the frame of the gate with precision.

I waited for him to start climbing, but a glance at his cheerful face told me someone else had been chosen for the job. He wasn‘t wrong: an Elleth was probably better suited for climbing up there. A real Elleth was, anyway. I huffed unhappily, then gripped the barely finger-thick rope with both hands and gave it an experimental tug.

„What are you waiting for?“, Gondor‘s hero questioned.

„I have no idea whether or not I can climb.“; I murmured without turning around. „The lightning strike, you know.“

„Of course you can climb“, he claimed, grabbing my waist to lift me up. „You are an Elleth, your lot can even walk on top of the snow.“

I actually began pulling myself up, only to give a squawk of indignation when I felt his hands below my behind. „What the hell do you think you‘re doing?!“

„I‘m pushing you up!“

„And I‘ll push a knife between your ribs if you don‘t stop. Let go of me!“ As a precaution, I climbed a little further before looking downwards. Boromir, the gentleman, was standing there, arms crossed over his chest, and looking beneath my tunic while grinning smugly.

You wouldn‘t believe how fast one can be when trying to spoil a man's view of their jogging shorts. It took me less than ten seconds to reach the top of the wall and turned to shake my fist at still smirking Boromir. He even gave me a little wave.

„That‘s it, I can‘t do this anymore “, I grumbled and stormed towards the nearest ladder leading towards the back of the gate.

Now, the mystery of the bolt on the inside was lifted. On one side, there was a long rope attached to it that now lay on the ground in one big heap. The Rohirrim had probably held up the latch with ropes from the outside until the last person had left the city. Then, they only needed to let go of the rope and it fell into its position. I assumed that the horse lords had some talented climbers who could scale the wall and remove the latch upon their return.

One of my elven moments came upon me and, blessed with the strength of the firstborn, I had little difficulties lifting the heavy wooden beam. Forcefully throwing open the door wings, I placed myself at the center of the doorway. As I said before, I couldn‘t do this anymore. I was sick and tired of constantly wondering if Boromir was the man of my dreams I was unfortunately unaware of.

Brows furrowed in slight confusion, he came to a stop in front of me. „Lucy?“

„Kiss me, Boromir!“

Silence lay over Edoras, with only the wind singing its lonely song. Well, and Boromir was spluttering with shock.

„Oh, come on!“, I cried out offendedly. „Why are you making such a fuss - I‘m not an Orc!“

„No“, he said slowly. „You‘re not an Orc. But why do you want me to kiss you?“

I frowned at this display of slow-wittedness. „It‘s so we finally know if we‘re just friends or something more. I don‘t want to think about it constantly.“

„Hmm, is there a possibility we are more than just friends?“ He smiled apologetically. „Not that I haven‘t thought about it. I‘m only a man after all, and you‘re a gorgeous woman - or Elleth. Really gorgeous, but ...“

„Boromir!“

I confess I was a little startled when he ended our discussion by gripping my upper arms and pulling me towards his chest. Before I could make a suggestion on how to proceed his lips lay on mine and I got the pleasure of a nice, surprisingly gentle kiss. Nice, but that was it.

We both gave it a few seconds, then he released me and we looked at each other. We both shook our heads at the same time. No, he was not my victim, a fact that came as a giant relief.

„Friends?“, he asked and held out his hand.

„Friends.“, I affirmed and we shook on it.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovely readers,  
> Here it is; my very first story. Truth be told, I'm very, very nervous about this, and not only because English is, in fact, not my first language.  
> Because of this, there might be some grammatical errors or some wonky expressions that might exist in German, but not in English. Pointing out mistakes along with suggestions to better phrases would help me out a lot, as long as it's done in a fair, friendly way. Constructive criticism is, of course, also welcome - I'm looking forward to this experiment and hope I can introduce some new twists and turns along the way :)
> 
> Stay safe & healthy,  
> Franzi


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